


My one and only Pudd'n

by Bloodskyangel



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Abuse, Confusion, F/M, First Person, Torment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-18 01:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2330201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodskyangel/pseuds/Bloodskyangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harleen tells her tale of "love".</p>
            </blockquote>





	My one and only Pudd'n

**Author's Note:**

> This may not be my first fanfic but this is my first time writing for this fandom and character. This story is meant to dive in a bit deeper to how Harleen got into this mess called "love".

So I've been thinking. What's so great about that clown anyway?

I was a good person before I met him; a therapist for God's sake! Why did I honestly think about taking him on as patient? I thought I would make it big and get famous for treating the clown prince himself but I never thought about him; about how the biggest and most feared criminal in Gotham could actually not be that bad of a guy.

I was able to shield myself from him and his idiotic banter for a while. But soon enough, that banter was actually rather charming. I was entranced by his movements as he spoke and his jokes were actually really funny. His humor grew on me. All he wanted was to make the world laugh; isn't that a noble cause?

I noticed his appearance right off the bat. I mean, isn't that what the first thing everyone notices about someone? He was very attractive but I didn't think about that at first. I turned down many men who were much more attractive and saner that him so ignoring my feelings should have been easy. The more time I spent with him however, the harder it was to push my feelings down. It didn't help how he looked at me. His glances and his need to be close to me sometimes made it worse for me to keep our relationship professional. I felt butterflies when I entered the asylum, knowing I would see him and that he would see me. I always kept up my appearances but now I had to do it for him. He always complimented me and it felt so good to hear him say those things. When I heard that he would ask for me I would run to my office and have him escorted to me right away. He always told me when he would break out because he trusted me. I never told the guards even though sometimes I was tempted to. I didn't care about the city of Gotham; they didn't understand him or how absolutely funny he was. I was tempted to tell only to keep him with me. I couldn't get him to stay at my apartment when he broke out. I never got a straight answer but maybe it was to protect me. Because he cared about me, a lot.

I was trained and educated for years to deal with any situation any patient would bring up; but holy hell, how could I not feel sorry for this poor man? His mother left on account of his father being a wild alcoholic. When he told me the story of his father taking him to the circus I nearly lost it. How can someone be so cruel to a child? All he wanted was to see his father laugh and in return he was beating for acting like a fool. Why did everyone fear and hate The Joker? He was misunderstood and innocent. His father was to blame for his brokenness and I swore I would fix him and everyone would see what I saw. A sweet darling Pudding.

Batman of course stood in my way. I understood at first, he had a city to protect. But he was a short term solution to a long term problem. Joker needed help but Batman's "justice" was directed at the poor misguided man. How can he heal psychologically if he had to focus on healing physically? Then Batman just had to show his true colors. People applauded him when he brought back The Joker battered, bleeding, and bruised. How can everyone not see the true monster? My pudding couldn't defend himself against that bully! I had to help him. No one else would.

That's when I became the Harley Quinn I am today!

I devoted myself to him. I was to be his right hand girl; his only girl. I helped him pull off heists, cleaned him up, helped him escape. I did everything I could for him and did things I never thought I could; stealing, kidnapping, hostages, murder. All for him.

If anyone laid so much as a hand on him, I'd be there to cut that hand off. Most lackeys were men but there was occasionally a girl or two. They never lasted long. Not when they knew I was watching. The first girl swore she was just dropping off a blue print for Mista J. I made sure to drop a mallet on her head. The second girl was just to pretty for me to let her near the J man. So I made her the appropriate amount of pretty when I gave her a facial with hydrofluoric acid. It's not my fault she couldn't take it like a real woman and died. The third, and last, really crawled under my skin. She pleaded for life; the whore was only wearing one of Joker's muscle shirts; as I pulled a gun out and held it to her forehead. "I didn't want to sleep with him! Harley I swear it! He made me-". I pulled the trigger. As her brains spilled out I was reminded of those joke cans that open up and fake snakes fly out.

He was laughing. I made my Joker laugh.

Ha hA ah ha ha Ah haa Ahhaa Ha ah ha ha Ha Ha hA hAaa Ha haaaaa ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha HAA hAA!

The laugh echoed in my head for days. Sometimes when I thought I finally got it out it became louder. Sometimes the laugh comforted me while other times it scared me. I thought I should feel proud that I made the ultimate funny man laugh but I felt like he laughed for the wrong reason. Maybe he misinterpreted the joke? Maybe I misunderstood what was funny?

All I knew for sure was that I had to secure my man. I pulled all the stops. I was as sexy as I can muster. I knew it must work since all the henchmen were drooling more then before. Still, he wouldn't touch me. He never even said I looked good or anything. I would purr to him and tell him he could do anything to me; nothing. I tried to role play with him that I was a hostage or anything he wanted; nothing. I wore lingerie and spoke seductively; nothing. i made a comically large pan with pudding in it and slipped in it; nothing. At times I just waited naked in bed for him to crawl in and for me to get right to the point; he never let me get a word in edgewise. He'd shove me away, tell me to put on clothes, and call me a sicko. Me? Sick? Well excuse me for having needs! I had to wait to take care of myself while Mista J plotted and schemed. 

All I ever heard was Batman. Batman. Batman. Batman. Batman!

What if Batman was no more? I caught the Bat, chained him up and used the blueprint from Mista J's desk for the ultimate performance! After Bats made a good point to call the Joker I was so happy. Finally after all this torment and smiles Pudd'n will finally see how much I love him. And maybe he'll see how much he loves me.

But then he laughed. Batman laughed. His laugh was too loud and echoed too much. It was way to creepy for me. It hit my ears all wrong and made my skin crawl.

"Why are you laughing? Please stop!" I screamed at him. I begged him to stop. But he wouldn't stop. It was like he finally broke and would laugh forever.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

He wouldn't stop; until I smacked him in the face.

"Don't you get it? He doesn't really love you." Then he went on about the other doctors who tried to help him before me. And after me.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be. I was special; he told me about his father and the circus and how hard his life was. He listened to me when I told him about my life. You know what? I don't care what the Bats said; I was the special one! I was the one who helped him pull off heists, cleaned him up, helped him escape from Arkham. I did everything I could for him and did things I never thought I could; stealing, kidnapping, hostages, murder. All for him. I did it. Me. No one else. No one else tried to help him pull the Bat from his brain and put the clown away.

All of these thought flood my brain as my Pudd'n rushed to me with that scary look on his face. And as I looked to Batman I saw something I haven't seen in a long time; well for me anyway.

Sympathy.

That made my eyes tear up more than the betrayal I felt as the glass rushed by me as I was pushed out the window.

So I've been thinking. What's so great about that clown anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey if you liked this, I have a Tumblr you can find me at. You can give me prompts or ask me a question or say hi! I only write on this site so you don't have to fish around for more stories. Have a good day everyday.


End file.
